


open the gates to hell

by halcyon_epochs



Series: Birthday gift fics [2]
Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, M/M, Nightmares, Post-Book 1: Carry On, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Pre-Book 2: Wayward Son, Romance, birthday gift
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-12
Updated: 2020-04-12
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:32:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23605351
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/halcyon_epochs/pseuds/halcyon_epochs
Summary: Simon Snow can't breathe.
Relationships: Penelope Bunce & Simon Snow, Penelope Bunce & Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch, Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow
Series: Birthday gift fics [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1699105
Comments: 4
Kudos: 37





	open the gates to hell

**Author's Note:**

  * For [vivelapluto](https://archiveofourown.org/users/vivelapluto/gifts).



> For Noor.
> 
> You're the best and ilysm <3 I'm sorry this is so angsty, you deserve fluffiness and happiness, but I guess the current situation has got me a little angsty. Happy birthday!!

Simon can’t breathe.

He watches helplessly as the Humdrum turns on Baz, Penny, Agatha, wearing his face, which is contorted with amused anger. Because he knows that Simon’s feet are rooted to the ground and his arms are glued to his sides, and he can’t reach his wand, lying two feet to his right. 

Simon can only watch in horror as the entity wearing his face tortures his loved ones one by one, and he lets out a gasping, agonized scream — 

— and — 

— and he wakes up with a jolt. Baz hovers over him, alarmed, his cold fingers clammy around Simon’s forearm.

“Another one?”

(It’s one of many nightmares, and every time, he’s forced to watch, never intervening, because he’s trapped by his own magick — )

He nods. Tenderly, Baz uses one finger to push back Simon’s hair (plastered on his forehead with sweat) and Simon exhales, his conscious calmed by the motion. 

“How did you know?” he asks.

“You look ill,” Baz points out, “and you screamed in your sleep. Normal people don’t do that, Snow.”

Normal? Simon has never been normal. First a savior, then a crippled magician, but never _normal._

“Was it the same nightmare?” 

“Yeah,” Simon mutters, not meeting Baz’s eyes. Looking at Baz’s eyes would mean reliving the nightmare, Baz’s face twisted with distress, the Humdrum laughing —

“Look at me.” His face is cupped by icy hands and forced upward; Baz’s expression is something fierce, something electric, and it’s almost mesmerizing.

“Look at me,” he repeats and Simon does, trying desperately to stave off the memory as his eyes lock with Baz’s.

“Don’t think about it,” Baz says, “don’t you _dare._ Just focus on me. Focus on the fact that we’re — I’m — alive and everything’s okay. Focus on that.”

Simon tries, he really does, but the nightmare still has its claws gripping his mind, trying to force its way back in, and he nearly caves.

“Focus,” utters Baz.

“Focus,” Simon repeats. He focuses on Baz’s face. _Think about something important. You’re in love with him. He’s okay. You’re_ okay. _Penny’s going to make pancakes tomorrow._

And in one powerful heave, the claws are gone.

* * *

Baz stays with him the rest of the night, despite Simon’s insistence that’s he’s fine — _“No, you’re not fine, now shut up and let me remove your wings and tail, it’s almost two a.m.”_ — but he doesn’t really mind, especially not when Baz’s arms are around him.

But Simon stays up well past two, feeling guilty. Baz shouldn’t have to share this burden with him. Baz could be with someone less damaged. Someone whole. Someone who could give him everything he wants.

_But he wants_ you _. He said so himself, he’s always been in love with you, ever since he met you. It was never Agatha or anyone else, it’s always been you…_

_...always…_

Simon shuts his eyes, not completely reassured.

It’s Baz’s soft breathing that lulls him to sleep.

Two nights later, the same nightmare presents itself in his head, only ten times worse. This time, there’s blood, and Simon wakes up screaming again. His hands somehow still feel sticky as he grasps the front of Baz’s shirt, pressing his face into his shoulder. He does not cry, but he can feel the tears welling up in his eyes and fights them back.

He can sense that Baz is at a loss on how to comfort him this time, so Simon makes it easier for him. “Just hold me.”

He complies and Simon’s heart cracks just a little as he remembers his thoughts from two nights prior. _He deserves better than me…_

* * *

He’s breaking. Splintering at the seams. If Baz could, he would battle Simon’s demons for him. But he’s forced to watch as Simon writhes in the sheets and all he can do is hug him and calm him down with whispered words that don’t seem to work.

_Why can’t I help him?_ is what he’s thinking as he runs his fingers through Simon’s hair to soothe him. Simon is curled up against him, his face once again pressed into Baz’s chest, and Baz can’t help but pity this vulnerable human. Once the formidable hero, he’s now been reduced to this, a shell of his old self.

Baz still loves him, though, and though he loathes to admit it, he would do anything for Simon. Simon isn’t just his boyfriend, he’s more than that. He’s practically Baz’s other half, as sappy as it sounds.

Simon’s breaths even, indicating he’s asleep, but Baz doesn’t dare leave him. What if he wakes again, locked in the throes of another nightmare?

_Fight,_ he tells Simon silently. _Fight, like you’ve been doing your entire life._

* * *

Everything’s peaceful, until Penny wakes one night when the sound of a heart-wrenching scream shatters the silence. It’s the fifth time this week. 

Penny stumbles out of bed and into the hallway, her eyes blurry, but she quickly finds Simon’s room and places a silencing spell upon his door. Not just for her benefit, but Simon’s too. She’s been doing this ever since the first night, when the screams began.

She’s not an idiot. She’s confronting her own demons, just like Simon, but hers — hers aren’t nearly as bad as Simon’s. She hasn’t woken up with a scream lodged in her throat, but she has woken up with her heart racing and her hands fisting the blanket. 

They’re all tormented, but Baz’s nightmares are the quietest — or perhaps he’s just used to stifling nightmares. Or his nightmares are being pushed aside so that he can shoulder Simon’s. 

Penny likes being able to chase away her own nightmares; she knows she can fight and she can _win._ Simon, on the other hand, needs time and resolve, and more importantly, he needs comfort. And he finds that in Baz.

She wishes Micah were here, but it’s just a wish. It’s not a need.

Penny touches a hand to her chest, her ring brushing her heart. She will _win,_ not just her battle, but Simon’s too.

Breakfast the next morning is quiet, as usual. Penny stands at the stove, making breakfast with magick, and Simon has his head down on the counter, his curls messier than normal. He always looks like this nowadays.

Baz emerges from the loo and his eyes immediately fall on Simon, softening. Penny pretends not to notice the affection between them, but this time, she can’t resist peeking. Baz is murmuring something into Simon’s ear. Simon’s head lifts a few centimeters and he mutters something in return.

Penny’s interest is piqued but she doesn’t let them know right away; she doesn’t feel like this is something that needed to be shared right this minute. She’ll talk to Baz later or coax it out of Simon, if he’s in the mood.

Key word being _if._ Simon’s been so unpredictable lately. But maybe Baz will be worried enough to confide in her.

* * *

She’s right.

Thirty eight minutes later, Penny’s in her room picking her outfit for the day when Baz knocks on the door. She knows it’s Baz because she’s been waiting for him for the last twenty minutes.

“Simon’s upset,” she says without turning away from her dresser. “He’s having nightmares.”

“I know.” Baz doesn’t sit, he refuses to sit wherever is most tainted with Penny-germs. He’s pretentious like that. “I’ve been trying to help him, but nothing seems to work. His nightmares keep getting worse, and _Crowley_ , I don’t know how to stop it.”

Now Penny turns around. “It’s killing you inside,” she states the unspoken words, matter-of-fact. “You hate that he’s going through this without you.”

“Yes. Right as usual, Bunce.”

Penny doesn’t bother correcting him. “I don’t know how to fix this either, Baz. I’ve been having nightmares too, but not as bad as his.”

“Me too,” he admits. “But I want to stop his before I take care of mine.”

Penny doesn’t say anything. If they can’t figure this out, Simon’s would be haunted forever. His demons would continue torturing him and Simon could lose his mind.

In short, everything would be bleak.

* * *

The next thing she does is plan a trip to the States.

Maybe Simon’ll be able to let loose his demons there.

_fin._

**Author's Note:**

> sorry for any mistakes!


End file.
